


your fever's gripped me again.

by Anonymous



Category: Dracula & Related Fandoms, Dracula (TV 2020)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:54:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22091395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: And to Jonathan's own shame, he begged him not to stop.
Relationships: Count Dracula/Jonathan Harker
Comments: 10
Kudos: 331
Collections: Anonymous





	your fever's gripped me again.

‘Did you have sexual intercourse with Count Dracula?’

Jonathan Harker has no breath to hitch, but as he looks up at Sister Agatha his throat contracts a little, and he wets his chapped lips. 

‘You must tell me everything,’ she presses on. ‘I am not easily shocked so you must spare no detail.’

So Jonathan tilts his head a little, not looking away fast enough to miss the wide eyed look on the other nun. Sister Agatha doesn’t care, and she presses on, taking his hand, his hand covered in lesions and scabby red marks like a leper, in hers across the table. It’s clear that she wants him to use his words, undeniable verbal confirmation.

‘And you did choose to do this with him? He did not compel you?’

Sister Agatha holds no judgment, nor any desire to persecute or berate. All she wants is the truth, the facts, every gory, intimate detail to paint the gaps in her portrait of Count Dracula. Her keen, steady, gaze compels Jonathan to speak, and speak in truth.

Jonathan nods again, ‘no, I, I wanted to. I wanted to,’ he repeats.

He’d felt this desire stir within him when the Count leaned over him, caressed his shoulder, cupped his face within the palm of his hand. Attraction and revulsion twisted together into a thorny ball that rested at the bottom of his stomach and ached when he watched Dracula drink from his glass across the table, licking that rich red blood off his fingers like a cat cleaning themselves after slaughtering a nest of baby birds they'd batted down from a tree. And of course he noticed that Jonathan noticed it, the way he moved around him, circling, so he leaned in closer and closer, until his red lips, now fresh and young, were a hair’s breadth away then pulled back ever so slightly to make Jonathan chase him, to be the one who leaned in.

Jonathan remembered Dracula’s strength, hands that gripped his slim waist, slimmer than it’d ever been, to sit him on the table and whisper in his ear. Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want to fuck me? Do your pretty blue eyes want me or do mine deceive me? And Jonathan had whimpered, please, begged him not to stop. He’d clambered backwards onto the table so that Dracula had to climb up as well, crawling towards him - terrifying red flecked eyes and the feel of a prey animal about to give the coup de grâce to their exhausted quarry. And Jonathan had not fought him, he'd stripped the other man down to his shirtsleeves, down to his trousers as his own buttons popped off, skittering across the floor as Dracula tore his shirt off him. He'd laid down so that the other man was on all fours above him, and as he bore down on him he'd run his hands through his jet black hair, over his hairy chest and his shoulders and his smooth back. His hands scrabbled for purchase on the unforgiving solid oak, and they shared bloody kisses that made the Count himself cry out into Jonathan’s pale lips. Then Jonathan had fallen asleep, exhausted, and woken in his room at the castle.

Back in his room at the convent, Sister Agatha only tilts her head to the side.

‘You Englishmen are so repressed, it is like you have more desire than you can bear to understand. I had been told he was a seductive man, but I never anticipated…’ she trails off. ‘Now, tell me what happened afterwards.’


End file.
